Hart To Hart

by Vella Day

  His wife had been such a graceful and talented dancer. Him? He could barely keep the beat. At least he hadn’t stepped on her toes. For a split second, he considered going inside and taking a lesson or two. That way, when Charlotte married, he wouldn’t look like a fool during the father-daughter dance.

  Give it a try.

  Vic pushed open his door, telling himself he was doing this as part of the job. If he could pretend to be a homeless man for a month, he could take a dance lesson or two and survive.

  When Vic entered the small ballroom with a large mirror lining one wall and posters of famous dancers plastered on the others, he hadn’t expected the sea of women to turn and look at him like a guppy in a shark tank. There were three men and about ten women.

  Act casual.

  An older woman he’d not met before came over to him. “Are you here for ballroom dancing?”

  “Yes.” His throat turned dry. “But I’m not very good.”

  She smiled. “All the more reason to be here, young man. I’m Millie by the way, and I will be your dance instructor.”

  Her lithe body spoke of someone who’d spent years on the dance floor, tapping out a beat. “How much are the lessons?” It didn’t matter what she told him, but he wanted to act the part.

  “Men get to come free. We have so few, we can’t possibly charge them.”

  Oh, boy. “Where would you like me?”

  She squeezed his arm. “A handsome man like you should know better than to ask an old lady a question like that.”

  His face heated. She was hitting on him? Dear God. “I’ll stand behind the ladies and try to follow along.” That way, he could watch Sandra Evans to see which of the three men she had her eye on, though none looked better than Harold Evans, stodgy though he might be.

  “We’re going to do the tango today,” Millie explained.

  He inwardly groaned. Millie, however, was an excellent teacher, taking the steps slowly. Vic watched Sandra while he tried to follow. Throughout the hour, Sandra barely made eye contact with any of the men. That was interesting. Perhaps her partner hadn’t shown up tonight.

  “Let’s pair up.” Millie went around the room putting the couples together—mostly women with women.

  From what he’d observed, she put an experienced person with a novice. When it came time to pair him up, he ended up with Sandra. What a coincidence.

  “Hi, I’m Vic.”

  She smiled. “Sandra. First time?”

  “Yes. You?”

  “I’ve been coming for almost three months now.”

  “That so?” Dumb comment, but his mind kept imagining him and El dancing.

  She smiled. “Years ago, my husband used to dance professionally. The few times we went dancing, I couldn’t keep up. He never said anything, but I could tell he was disappointed. This Christmas, he’s booked us a trip to Argentina, and I know we’ll be at a club where they do the Argentine Tango. I want to get out there and dance with him.” Her eyes sparkled. “I realize the Ballroom Tango is different, but it’s the best I can do on short notice.”

  “That’s amazing and quite sweet.” Not to mention, highly romantic. Boy, had he pegged her wrong.

  “Thank you.” So engrossed in her story, Vic stumbled. “Remember, it’s right, left, right,” she said in a helpful tone.

  “Gotcha.” It would take months for him to get good.

  By the time the class ended, he’d been paired with three other women. When he left, he signed up for a month’s worth of classes.

  On the way home, he had to figure out what to tell Mr. Evans. There was no way he’d spoil the man’s surprise. Sandra was a wonderful wife to sneak in dance lessons. He bet she’d like El, if they ever met.

  El had made sacrifices like that for him all through their marriage, and yet, he’d done little for her. Damn. He had made so many mistakes.

  As soon as he entered his house, he lit the fire and called Charlotte. He missed her. Hell, he missed El, too, but she was better off where she was.

  “Hey, what’s up? You call Mom yet?”

  What was wrong with everyone? “We’ve been through this. I called to see if you wanted to come over for Christmas. I thought we’d build a snowman like we used to.”

  She laughed, sounding a lot like her mom. “I’m twenty-three.”

  So? He and El loved making one. “Fine, but come anyway. I’ll have a tree.”

  “Sure. What can I bring?”

  “Just yourself. When I know more, I’ll let you know.”

  After he disconnected, he grabbed a beer, turned on the stereo and sank onto the sofa. Was he being an ass, like Sharon claimed? El wouldn’t like Rock Hard, and he would never ask her to give up her career for him. His life was fraught with danger.

  She’d already asked him to come with her, which meant she cared, but perhaps she was being polite. Why was this now so confusing? He’d told her to stay away. Shit. Had he made a mistake? Vic rubbed his eyes. Why couldn’t he do anything right when it came to her?

  Of late, things had become jumbled in his head—and it wasn’t from the concussions. He’d totally believed the worst of Sandra Evans, and that wasn’t like him at all. The facts pointed to her being a straight arrow, and the few people he’d spoken with had said she loved her husband, yet he wanted to believe the worst.

  Something needed to change and fast, but he didn’t know what.

  * * *

  “I’ll get us some coffee from across the street,” Ellie said. “Be right back.”

  “Tell them to go light on the cream,” Wendy called out.

  “Don’t worry, I remember.”

  Ellie bundled up, grabbed her purse, and left the gallery. With Christmas around the corner, business had become rather hectic. She’d convinced Hilton to take his turn at night, when the bigger customers usually stopped by, and yet she still was running ragged.

  Outside, the air was brisk and the heavy clouds were about to dump its load. She stepped to the curb and waited for the light to change. She ran through her options of what to buy in the way of sweets. It was going to be a long evening. On Friday and Saturday, the gallery stayed open until ten.

  The light turned red and the white walk signal lit. Ellie had taken about three steps when the sound of metal crunching ripped through the air, the loud crash startling her. Tires squealed and horns blared. As if time slowed, the car that had just stopped at the light was pushed into the intersection by the car behind it. Ellie froze, awaiting the impending disaster. A car entering the intersection from the right side slammed into the passenger door of that first car. Glass shattered and smoke puffed out from the engine.

  Holy shit. Ellie wanted to rush to the woman, but it wasn’t safe. More cars banged into the one in front of it. She whipped out her phone, dialed 911, and told them the location and nature of the crash. Drivers from as far as four cars back exited their vehicles and ran toward the site. Pedestrians stopped and gawked.

  She wanted to help, but didn’t know what she could do.

  “What happened?” Wendy said, running out of the store.

  “Someone slammed into a woman and pushed her into the intersection when the light was red. Oh, my God. I hope she’s okay.”

  Less than two minutes later, sirens sounded. Wendy wrapped an arm around Ellie’s shoulder. “Come back inside. We can get the coffee later.”

  Ellie nodded. Rattled, she followed Wendy inside. Still shaking, Ellie made her way over to the counter and sat down. “That poor woman. She was minding her own business and the next thing she’s being slammed into the intersection.”

  Wendy shook her head. “Shit happens. You follow the rules, and bad stuff still goes down.”

  “You got that right.”

  Wendy shook her head. “Virginia just isn’t safe like it used to be.”

  For the rest of the evening, those words resonated with Ellie. Maybe it wouldn’t matter where she lived; some thug who’d never heard of Vic Hart could come after her. Wendy was
right. Sometimes, bad shit comes when you least expect it.

  A little after ten, Ellie locked the gallery doors, and then she stepped into the back room where Wendy was shutting down the computers. “I’ve been thinking,” Ellie said.

  Wendy looked up. “About what? You going to find out about that woman who was injured in the car wreck?” They’d watched the ambulance backboard the woman out.

  “No. What do you think about me moving to Montana?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Christmas was in four days, and yet Vic didn’t have the energy to do much shopping. He’d ordered a few things for Charlotte, but he had yet to decorate his home. He figured he’d pick up a spruce tree at Lander’s Lot tomorrow. By then, they’d be cheap.

  A knock sounded on his door. He sighed. Hadn’t he told Sharon just to walk in? “Come on in.”

  The door eased open and he glanced up. A woman in a trench coat, boots, and a hat pulled over her face strolled in. He stood. “May I help you?”

  She raised her head and Vic’s heart sputtered. “El?” Was she a mirage? She had to be.

  “I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas in person.”

  “What are you doing here?” That didn’t come out right. “I mean, I never thought I’d see you again.”

  She took off her hat and placed it on the chair in front of his desk. “You thought wrong.”

  He had a million questions to ask her, but he couldn’t concentrate with her slowly undoing the tie around her waist. Once open, she slipped the top button through the slit, revealing nothing but skin. He didn’t dare move and chance ruining this miracle.

  “I sent Sharon home, by the way,” she said. “We’re all alone.”

  The ramifications had his cock threatening to jump out of his pants, but they needed to talk first. “How long can you stay?” Was this just a quick visit or had she decided she wanted to make a life with him?

  Another button opened, exposing more bare chest. “I guess that depends on you.”

  He wanted her to stay forever. “What do I have to say?”

  She laughed. “How about saying nothing and just watching before I lose my nerve?”

  He pressed his dry lips together and held up his palms in surrender. “I won’t stop you.”

  I might die or make a fool of myself before you finish, though. He adjusted his crotch, and then leaned against the desk to keep from tearing off that damned coat. She smiled and undid the next button. Only then did he notice her legs were bare and a bit red as if she were cold.

  “Want me to turn up the heat for you?” He was sweating, but it wasn’t from the room temperature.

  “I was hoping you’d heat me up.”

  Kill me, now. She was a vixen, a temptress, sent by his maker to do him in. “I can do that.” As he pushed off from the desk, she held up a palm.

  “Stay there. I’ll be done in a minute.”

  He licked his lips and rested against the corner. “I’m waiting.”

  Her hands dropped lower and she undid the next button. The lapels fell open to reveal naked breasts. Vic trembled. Could this be happening? He pinched his arm and she laughed.

  “If you’re thinking I’m not real, I assure you, I am.”

  “Good to know.”

  After undoing the last two buttons, the trench coat gaped open. Except for her knee-high boots, she was naked. Totally. Completely. Gloriously.

  “May I help you out of that?” he asked with as much composure as he could muster.

  She turned around. “Thank you.”

  Vic pushed off from the desk and placed his hands on her shoulders. He never wanted to move away from her. Her gardenia scent invaded his mind and his heart. Wanting to keep the tension high and the romance strong, he lowered her coat down her arms. Once free, he walked over to the coat stand and hung it up. Inhaling, he turned around. If someone walked in the room right now and shot him in the heart, he’d die a happy man.

  “You’re beautiful, but we have a problem.”

  Her smile disappeared. “A problem?”

  “Are you aware that nudity in public is illegal in Montana?”

  She shook her head. Vic strode over to his desk, opened the drawer, and extracted a pair of cuffs he’d used back at the Bureau. He’d kept them as a keepsake. Now they’d serve a different purpose.

  Striding up behind her, he gently pulled her arms back and cuffed her. “You are under arrest for public indecency.”

  El twisted around to face him. “I’m so sorry, Agent Hart. Isn’t there something I can do to make you change your mind? I have so much to accomplish and can’t afford to go to jail.”

  He stroked his chin. “While I change, I’ll think about it.”

  Attempting to keep a straight face, he ditched his clothes as fast as was humanly possible.

  “You’ve lost weight.” Concern filled her voice.

  “I’ve missed you, El. So fucking much.” He wouldn’t break down. He’d gone through enough misery since she left to last a lifetime.

  “Me, too. What are you going to do about it?” She tilted up her chin.

  God, but he loved this woman. “Only thing I know—make love with you. I want you and need you more than you can imagine.” He’d gladly spend the rest of his life fighting off any man who came near her if it meant he could have her by his side. He’d been stupid to let her go.

  Vic stepped close and placed his palms over her tightly budded nipples. She needed to get warm, and he knew just what to do to help.

  El dropped back her head. “That feels so good. I want to grab your cock.”

  “Which is one reason why you’re cuffed. One touch and I’ll explode.”

  Vic leaned over, wrapped one arm around her waist and suckled on her tit. Passion and ecstasy collided. He needed this woman like he needed to breathe, but he didn’t want to assume she’d stay forever.

  Once he licked and tugged on the other nipple, he swooped her up in his arms. She felt so right there. “What are you doing?” She giggled.

  “Thought you’d be more comfortable on the desk.” He set her on the edge then placed his laptop on the ground. The rest of the stuff he swiped onto the floor.

  She laughed. “You do take your job seriously, Mr. Hart.”

  “That’s former Agent Hart to you.” Flirting and bantering did wonders for his soul. “Now spread ‘em.”

  She scooted back to the middle of the desk and rested on her elbows. That position didn’t look comfortable so Vic grabbed his clothes, folded them, and placed them under her arms and butt. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  Vic pulled his client chair close to the desk and sat. “Now, for my feast. Don’t think about coming, or there will be dire consequences.”

  She lowered her chin. “I bet if I were to suck on your cock, I could make you come.”

  “I won’t lie. You could. Now lean back and let me enjoy you.”

  “Can you take off the cuffs? I want to touch you.”

  The metal cuffs couldn’t be comfortable, but having her touch him right now would be bad. He jumped up, retrieved the key from his drawer, and removed them. Not needing her to take too much control, he strode over to the rack, slipped the belt from the coat, and returned. “Sit up.”

  “You’re mean, officer,” she replied doing as he asked with a delicious pout.

  After he wrapped the material around her wrists, he tied it off in a bow. “Better?”

  “Sort of. Once I pay my bail, you’ll be sorry.”

  He laughed, the feeling so good he could taste it.

  Dropping onto his chair, he slid forward and widened her legs. Her arousal lit up his libido to a dangerous level. As much as he wanted to bring her pleasure, his reward would be higher. His first lick had his dick turning to steel. How he was going to keep from coming, he didn’t know.

  “I love your taste. I can’t get enough of you.” Vic practically buried his face against her pussy, sucking, licking, swirling.

  �
��Yes.” She arched her back and groaned. “I need more.”

  Vic obliged by delving two fingers into her wet channel and curling his fingers to locate her most sensitive spot. As soon as he hit it, she writhed and slid closer. “That’s it!” she crooned.

  Heaven could never be this good. Her breathy pleas were too much for him. Vic stood. “I’m weak. I need you too much.”

  With a quick tug, he took off her restraint. “Your bail has been posted, but don’t leave town.”

  “Promise, Agent Hart. I’m staying.”

  He wanted to shout for joy, but he had a few more pressing things to take care of. Standing between her legs, he drew her up to a sitting position and kissed the delicate plane of her neck then dragged his kisses up to her ear. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.

  “Show me.”

  Vic cupped the back of her head and kissed her with every ounce of passion and love welling inside him. She was the woman he wanted, and he made a promise to do everything in his power not to mess it up. Their tongues darted in and out, exploring each other as if this was their first kiss. His lungs tightened in need of air, but it was El who leaned back.

  “Let me show you what I want.”

  The glint in her eye told him he was going to regret this. “Be my guest.”

  * * *

  Ellie had been so scared to pull off a stunt like this, but the more she thought about it, the surer she was that she was doing the right thing. If Vic loved her like he said, then she wanted to give this relationship a try.

  She hopped off the desk. “How about you sit up there?”

  “Your mouth is the match to my kindling.”

  She laughed. “I agree you might combust, but there’s nothing small about your stick.”

  He cracked up. “Fine. Just be quick. I’ve been dreaming of having my cock in your pussy from the moment you told me goodbye.”

  “Is that all I’m good for?” She didn’t really believe it, but his actions almost implied it.

  Vic grabbed her to his chest. “No, sweetheart. You are my everything. It’s easier for me to express what I’m feeling when we make love.”